Page 36 of For a Lady's Fiery Heart
Caroline made her way down the stairs, her face still a little red from crying. Her maid had done her best to cover the tell-tale signs, but some redness still seeped through the light face powder. She took a deep breath, smoothing down her skirt.
After their argument that afternoon, she had secluded herself in her room for a while, thinking over all that he had said. After much deliberation, she realised he was right. How could her father learn from his mistakes if they constantly saved him from the consequences of his actions?
Her aunt and uncle had learned early that he would take advantage where any leeway was given and had refused to help them besides a clothing allowance for her and Grace. They had helped Caroline come out into society in the hopes that she would make a good match. Now that she was married, she was sure they would offer no more aid to her parents besides the allotment left for Grace's coming out.
Caroline sat near the head of the table near Lord Highclere later that evening. She had been forced to come down to dinner, as Lord Highclere had arranged a small dinner party with a few of his friends and her family. She was glad to see Sir Knowles at the table, seated beside Grace. They made a beautiful couple, indeed.
There were a total of ten people at the table: Lord Highclere and Lady Nusbaum were paired at the head of the table. Herself and James were seated across from each other near his father, her parents, Grace and Sir Knowles, and a Lord and Lady Crandle from down the road took up the foot of the table. The atmosphere was cheery, but Caroline had little inclination to join in the fun. Her father was being his usual boisterous self, and she was mortified to see that he was now finishing his third glass of wine.
Caroline shot James a wary look. She could not tell what he was thinking. Was he angry with her or simply subdued this evening? She would not blame him if he were angry with her. She had acted abominably, choosing to see the situation through emotion rather than logic. Caroline had been so looking forward to spending more time with him, and now she was sure that she had ruined any chance of them having a happy marriage for good.
Lord Highclere looked over at her, giving her a broad smile.
"James tells me that the trip to Pembroke Place was a success. I am very eager to hear his report on all the renovations and repairs that need to be made."
He patted her hand, which instantly sent her heart fluttering with trepidation. Why was she so averse to his fatherly touch? While she tried not to jerk her hand free, she felt her heart skip a beat. "How did you find your old childhood home?"
"I found it much changed, but I will be very glad to see it renewed. That is if you agree to the plan James has come up with," Caroline said softly.
"I will be most happy to see his plan. I am sure it is very thorough." He turned to Lady Nusbaum. "I believe I am the luckiest man in England to have such a daughter-in-law. Do not you agree?" he asked, drawing the older woman into the conversation.
Caroline did not think that she had done anything particularly praiseworthy regarding being a daughter-in-law. Lord Highclere and Lady Nusbaum began to converse on the merits of the people their children had married. Lady Nusbaum considered herself an expert on the subject of managing relationships with her sons and daughters-in-law, for she had five of them in all.
Turning her attention to her soup, Caroline let her mind wander. She risked a peek at James and was embarrassed to see he was watching her closely. However, instead of his face holding what she would have considered justified apathy, she saw only concern. She looked away again in a hurry, wishing she had pleaded a headache and stayed in her room with a tray.
What must he think of her? She knew he was right about their argument that afternoon, but she had not had a chance to tell him yet. She would have to swallow her pride and go to him after dinner and beg his forgiveness. Whatever he thought best in handling her father, she would submit to his authority.
Caroline was pulled out of her reverie as her father stood and gave a toast to Lord Highclere. Her stomach plummeted, and the bile began to rise in her throat. Her father swayed, his cheeks rosy from too much liquor and not enough food.
"Lord Highclere!" he said in too loud a tone to match the gathered company that was present. Caroline grimaced, hanging her head. She brought her napkin up to dab at the corners of her mouth, not because she had anything on her face, but to cover her shame–even if it was for a short second.
Her mother flashed her a worried glance, and Grace did so as well. Caroline silently begged her mother to do something. She caught on, leaning toward her father to whisper up at him. "Dearest, our host is in the middle of a conversation. Perhaps this can wait until–"
"Nonsense. Attention, my friends!" he said. Spittle flew from his mouth, and Caroline again covered her face. She was mortified but knew that there was no escaping what her father was about to do. She could only hope he would lavish praise on Lord Highclere and be done.
Her father waited until the table had quieted and then continued.
"I should like to make a toast to our esteemed host, who has so graciously accepted us into his home. If not for your promise to help me pay back my debts in return for Caroline's hand for Lord James, I would be in a very different place at the moment!" he slurred. His face was bright red, and he hiccupped as he finished. Raising his glass, he toasted Lord Highclere. "To our saviour, Lord Highclere!"
The rest of the table gave a lacklustre salute to Lord Highclere. The atmosphere was infused with tension. Caroline felt like her face was on fire, so embarrassed was she. Now everyone at the table knew she had been sold to James as a bride just to erase her father's debts. How long would the gossip take to traverse the entire country? By the end of the month, everyone would know of her shame and that of her family.
However, her ridicule was not over. Her father turned to her and raised his glass.
"Caroline, your glass! You have not drunk to Lord Highclere. Very bad form, if you ask me. Please, come now. Drink up!" he encouraged.
Caroline did not budge, afraid to look at her father-in-law or husband. She suddenly stood up, unable to bear the eyes boring into her from all corners of the table. Her chair scraped against the hardwood floors, calling even more attention to herself. She caught her mother tugging at her father's coat sleeve, begging him to sit down in hushed tones.
"Please excuse me," Caroline mumbled, glancing at the door. She needed an escape, and she could think of no other way to break away from her shame. She hurried out of the room without another word of explanation, hot tears stinging her eyes and slipping down her cheeks.
She kept to the shadows, making her way down the darkened corridor toward the library. Hopefully, no one would come after her or think to look for her. Caroline slipped into the room, the oppressive darkness matching her mood. How could her father do this to her? Was her shame not enough that he had to expose it to the whole of polite society? She was not sure if Lord and Lady Crandle were gossips, but something this scandalous would be too good not to share eventually.
Caroline made her way carefully through the maze of bookshelves and chairs, coming to a window seat. She parted the curtains slightly and saw a full moon cresting over the trees. Covering her face with her hands, she began to sob.
What would James do now that her father had embarrassed them all in front of the company? Surely it was the end for her parents and Grace. They would end in ruin in a poor house unless, by some miracle, Grace was able to marry and escape the coming disgrace. And there was nothing Caroline could do about it.
Chapter 21
James stood up from the table, throwing his napkin on his plate. He hurried out of the dining room after Caroline. Once in the hall, he called her name softly, but there was no answer. He continued down the corridor, poking his head in at each room as he passed.
